


Everything Breaks In Me

by erintoknow



Series: Aria-Rough Drafts [28]
Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén, Fallen Hero: Rebirth (Video Game)
Genre: Depression, F/F, Kissing, POV Female Character, POV Second Person, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, Trans Character, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-13 17:03:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20585969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erintoknow/pseuds/erintoknow
Summary: Well, you know what they say; no plan survives contact with the enemy intact.





	Everything Breaks In Me

**Author's Note:**

> pulling the title from [[Wolf by alicebanD]](https://youtu.be/TtIKr6uWqHs)

You breath a sigh of relief as Herald shuts the door behind him. He’s not _that_ young, but just the air he has around him makes you feel decrepit by comparison. To say nothing of the stars in his eyes, plain to see in every two sentence exchange with the kid. Try not to think about the limp in his gait, his preference to hover over walking, the night at the Gala.

Damnit. How are you going to take them down for good if a broken leg is enough to make you feel like shit? These people aren’t your friends, your allies. They’ll turn on you the second they know the truth. That was true before Puppetmaster hit the papers, and it’s only become more true now even as everyone’s arguing conflicting names for your villain identity.

Something like you can’t have allies, never mind friends.

You can’t afford to forget that.

Not again.

You can’t go back.

Not again.

Glance around the break room, no point trying to raid the fridge while you wait for Ortega. You need the time to figure out how you’ll approach that conversation. Things have been… strange since the Gala. Just thinking about her is enough to bring on the nausea. The hospital, the beach… how can she not see you for what you are? How is she not repulsed?

* * *

The Los Diablos beach is more stone than sand. One of the many lasting scars of the disaster that killed Los Angeles, a city you’ve only seen in photographs and old movies. When you first came here, over a decade ago, the bay still had the metal skeletons of ruined buildings rising out of the sea. It looks like they’ve finally cleared them all out now.

“Are you okay?” It’s Ortega’s fault you’re out here. You don’t know what to make of that.

You don’t understand, don’t understand your own body’s reaction to her. How you’re all your higher reasoning seems to go out the window around her. Is what is was like before? Were you always this bad around Ortega or is this a new development? So many frayed, half-forgotten memories, and which ones are even real or just desperate dreams?

You can’t afford to be like this, can’t afford to lose control.

You lost control and broke Herald’s leg. Lost control and didn’t properly finish Charge off. You’re going to fall prey to the same problems you’ve watched countless other villains fall to. At this rate you won’t even last long enough to register as a blip in the steamroller the Directive has poised to flattened all dissenters

Fuck.

“Ari!” Ortega snaps her fingers and the sound makes you jerk your head towards her, startled out of your brooding. “Are you okay?” She’s watching you, brows knit in worry, and you feel sick.

You wince, “I’m fine,” shoot a glance her direction, “really.”

“Uh-huh. Liar.” She shifts position, leaning against the guard rail, moves a little closer to you. “What are you thinking about so hard?” The sun’s right in her face, lighting her up. Is she frowning or squinting, you’re not sure.

You pull your head away from her, stare out across the water. “I don’t know.” You run your hands up your arms, even under all the fabric you can make out the little bumps and divots from the scars.

“You don’t know?” Ortega taps you on the shoulder with the back of her hand. A fleeting touch but it makes your heart jump.

“W-would you rather I lied?” You stretch your face into a smile.

* * *

You run your hands through your hair. Maybe you can help yourself to some hot chocolate. Get your hands something to do before you dig a hole in your skin. You drift over to the coffee collection, flip a finger through the bags looking for the coco.

It would be easier if you could just cut contact with Ortega completely. Just fucking ghost the fuck out of Julia. But, one, that would just get Ortega hounding your heels and two, would lose you access to the Rangers. Maybe if you hadn’t kissed her in the hospital. A moment of weakness you couldn’t afford.

You’ve been having a lot of those lately.

Well, you know what they say; no plan survives contact with the enemy intact.

You’ve just finished pouring yourself a mug of hot water and coco powder when the door opens. “So.” Chen announces as he steps into the break room room, leaving the door open behind him. “You’re back.”

You settle against the window pane, cross your legs at the knee as you lean back. Make it clear you’re not about to leave. “I thought we already got past this part, Chen.” You hold the mug tight to your chest, one hand spinning the little red stirrer stick round and round.

You pick up a burst of frustration, but Chen’s face betrays none of it. “You were very insistent before on being retired. And yet,” Chen stoops down to search through the refrigerator. “And yet, here you are again.”

You take a sip, ignoring the burn on your tongue. “It’s a free country, Chen,” you lie. “You’re the marshal, if really you want me out you could just have be barred from the building.” Maybe you’re playing your hand a little strong here but you can’t keep having this conversation with Chen. It’s exhausting.

He pulls out a squeeze bottle and shuts the fridge door as he stands up. “I could,” Chen concedes, and for a moment your heartbeat quickens. Is he seriously going to call your bluff and how you tossed out? Chen sighs and rubs his nose. “But I won’t. You aren’t a threat.”

You blink. “I think that might be nicest thing you’ve said to me.”

Chen’s mouth twitches in the ghost of a smile. “You aren’t a threat _yet_.”

“There we go.”

“You haven’t tried to ‘improve’ the coffee machine, for example.”

You close your eyes and rest your head back against the glass. “Jesus Christ. Are you all still holding that against me?”

* * *

“It’s okay.” Ortega’s hand presses into your shoulder and you freeze up. “It’s over. We’re still here.”

“What?” You breathe out.

“The Nano-surge?” Ortega points across the bay with her other hand. The crest of land, still oddly clear of anything but grass and now shrubs. “Ten years this year.”

You blink, try to relax. “Oh.” Swallow down the tightness in your throat. “Oh… can you believe it?”

That gets a laugh from her. She takes her hand from your shoulder and rubs the sleeve of her arm, the one you know must still have patches of mismatched skin where the grafts didn’t take correctly. “I really thought that was it for me…”

Something in your chest twists and you have to rub at your eye. “I’m glad I saved you back then.” You say, and to your surprise find it’s still true.

“Yeah, me too.”

* * *

You hear Chen sigh, and suddenly he sounds very, very tired. “Is that really what you think this is about?”

You narrow your eyes at Chen, staring him down from across the room. “Then explain to me, Chen. What ‘is this about’ then?”

Chen meets your glare head-on and you have to will yourself not to break eye-contact. “I meant what I said before. I’m glad you aren’t dead.”

“There’s ‘but’ in there somewhere–”

“But–”

“Yeah, there we go.”

“It doesn’t change the reality, that for the rest of us, you did die. You were dead for seven years Becker. And now you think you can just, what?” Chen’s frown deepens. “Come back like nothing happened?”

Something between nausea and fury bubbles up in your throat and it’s all you can do not to throw your mug across the the room at him. “You have no fucking idea what I went through Chen! So back the fuck off!”

The silence stretches into seconds, then a minute, then “It was that bad, huh?”

_Fucking hell piss goddamnit the bastard got you again_.

“I’m not fucking tell you anything.” You clench your jaw, don’t look at him. Don’t look at his stupid face. Don’t peek at his stupid trap thoughts.

“You should tell _somebody_.”

* * *

“I still get nosebleeds sometimes,” you admit. “Not as often… but ever since then.”

“Yeah?”Ortega moves closer to you, shoulders touching. So close. Too close. “Have you ever thought to see a doctor about it?”

“Ortega, please,” you arch an eyebrow, the smile on your face turning genuine. “Have you met me?”

“Ah-hah, the real reason you retired: fear of doctors.”

You laugh. “You’ve found me out.” Without really thinking about it you press your shoulder back against her’s. Enjoy the warmth of the falling sun against the cool of the salt air. “You ought to think about it too.”

“What? Retire?”

“There’s plenty of other people that could save the world, you know.” You bite your lip. “It doesn’t have to be you.” You wish she’d stop. Let it go. Don’t.. don’t put herself in danger like that again.

“Hah. Well.” Ortega straightens up, pulling away from you. “I think saving the entire world might be beyond my pay grade…” She steals a glance at you from the corner of her eye. “I’ll be happy if I can just save people.”

You turn away from her, shift down on the railing. “What about stopping them?” You can feel the railing shift as she turns to you but you don’t look back.

“You know there’s only one I care about.”

“_Really_.”

“Well, alright.” She sighs. “There’s Hollow Ground and then there’s Banshee.”

“Ghost.” You correct her.

She blinks. “They changed their name again?”

Oh.

Shit.

You shrug, try to play it off like it was nothing and steal a glance at her. “That’s what the paper said this morning.”

“Whoever they are,” You can feel Ortega’s eyes on the side of your face. “They need to be stopped.”

* * *

You glare into your mug of hot chocolate. “Why do you even give a damn Chen.” If you had heat vision, the cup would be boiling.

“The way I see it, Becker, I’m wondering the same thing about you. You keep fixing little things around here, offering advice to Ortega,” Chen takes a pull from his squeeze bottle. “You act like you hate it, but you listen to and answer all of Herald’s questions. Argent’s the only one you’ve really avoided.”

“I just–” you hiss, frustrated to be on the back-foot once again. “If Ortega’s going to keep calling me over, I might as well make myself useful.”

Chen is staring straight at you and you have to hold your mug with both hands to keep them from shaking. “You asked me before, about choosing between two futures. If you want to retire Ariadne, then retire. Don’t use Ortega as an excuse to drag you into a half-life. That’s not fair to either of you.”

You tighten your grip on the mug, grind your teeth. “But why do you _care_?”

“You mean besides Ortega being my friend?” Chen’s voice drops as he talks. “Because I don’t understand why you do.”

* * *

“But–” you swallow the words in your throat, try again, “but why does it need to be you?”

Ortega’s eyes are still boring a hole through you. “They made it personal.”

You close your eyes, try not to think about her looking at you. “It doesn’t– it doesn’t have to be. There’s other heroes, and– and– and it didn’t go well for you the last time.” You grip the railing tight, rub your hands against the metal. “I worry about you.”

“You don’t need to.” You open your eyes and she’s smiling at you, confident, and there’s something about her eyes, wrinkles casting shadow in the sun. Whatever seven years might have done to Ortega, it hasn’t damaged her ability to look stunning in the spotlight.

You collapse against the railing, chin on metal. “I keep trying to tell myself, and it hasn’t helped.”

“You don’t have to protect me,” she laughs. “When did you get to be such a mom?”

You groan, a sound that turns into more an anguished noise than you had intended. “You don’t– you don’t get it.”

Everything she’s ever worked for: a lie. A lie you need to destroy, burn down to the ground. Yourself included. What would she do if you came clean right now? Right here? Zap you and turn you back in? Kill you? If you really believed she’d actually kill you, maybe you’d tell her. Let her do the thing you keep chickening out of. Take the choice out of your hands.

“You keep saying I don’t get it, Ari.” Ortega’s voice dips, hurt? Serious? “So, explain.”

* * *

“I– I– I just…” Are you sick? Mad? Both? What is Chen’s fucking deal? You need to go on the offensive again before he drives you from the building. “Look.” You raise a hand towards him, still not looking in his direction. “It’s obvious you guys are in trouble. I… I don’t want the Rangers to fall apart.”

Is that the truth or a lie? You’re not sure.

“Kind of you.” Chen’s voice is deadpan. “I think I know more about teamwork than you do.”

“Just– I might not have joined but– but that doesn’t mean we didn’t all make a good team.”

A wave of want and nostalgia seizes your heart.

If you could only go back to how things were before. Anathema and you pranking Steel, giving Sentinel a thumbs up. Talking with Sunstream about her garden. The nights with Ortega, her watching you at Derby games, the celebratory dinners or the consolatory milkshakes. Making sure Ortega got home safe after a hard fight. Fixing her hair for her. Helping to stitch her back up until the medics could come. Being her sounding board as she butted heads with PR and city officials. So many other little things you’re sure you’ve forgotten…

It’s all gone now. You’ll never get it back.

A lie. A dream.

And when you woke up–

“I wish you would have.” Chen says, pulling you out of your reverie.

Wait.

“What? J-joined?” Seriously?

“Yes, I wish you had.” When you look at Chen, he’s no longer staring you down, instead looking past you, out the window.

“I… I wouldn’t do the background check, you know that.”

He looks back to you and now it’s your turn to look out the window. “And you wonder why I didn’t trust you.”

“Not– not everyone is tight with the U.S. Government, you know.” You have to take a breath, scratch your fingers against the sides of the mug. “That doesn’t mean they’re bad.”

“The chances increase.”

You bite your lip a little too hard, wince at the pain. From the very beginning Chen has been trying to push you out. Reminding you that you don’t belong. Can’t belong. “But they… they might have enemies.”

* * *

“Talk to me. Make me get it. Please.” Ortega’s voice by your ear is too much. You’ve got to… you’ve got to move. Get out. If only it was as simple as running away.

You test the railing in your hand. “W-why don’t we, uh, why don’t we walk?” You glance behind you, then up and down the promenade. No obvious witnesses you can detect. You vault over the railing and pick your way down across the rocks of the jetty. Behind you, the sounds of Ortega scrabbling over the railing after you.

“Not planning on a swim, I hope.” Ortega picks her way from stone to stone after you.

You shake your head, glance back while you let her catch up. “I don’t swim,” not in this body, “I– I just wanted privacy.”

Ortega looks at you, not quite smiling, not quite frowning. The wind pulls at your hair, clothes. “Not much more private than this, ‘less you count the seagulls.”

You take a breath, try to steady yourself. “Look Ortega, I– I…”

* * *

Chen takes a long drink from his squeeze bottle. Finally, he says “I’m sorry.”

You look up from your mug. “You’re… you’re sorry?” You choke back a laugh. “For what?”

There’s a… you can’t read the expression on his face. Something you don’t think you’ve seen before on his face. Regret? “For a lot of things,” He says. “I…”

“W-what?”

“I went looking for you.”

You manage to put the mug down on the table before you drop it. He can’t– He can’t really mean? But? _Why_? What did he? But then? You cough, run a hand down your leg, pressing familiar patterns. “Didn’t they tell you I was dead?”

“Yes.” Steel nods. “I had a bad feeling. Something didn’t add up.” He shakes his head. You don’t think you’ve seen him this tense, this nervous in a long, long time. “They tried to tell me it was trauma from whatever the hell Heartbreak was.”

“An experiment, or…” you pull your arms tight against yourself. This is dangerous territory. “That’s my guess anyway.”

Steel doesn’t look directly at you, but his frown intensifies, eyebrows dip down. “You think someone… did that on purpose?”

“Uh– maybe not on… purpose.” You hug yourself tight, fall back against the wall again. “But they… they had been kept somewhere. There was…” You have to swallow down the bile. “Still equipment attached. Med-medical.”

“Huh. Interesting.” If Steel notices that you’re literally trying to hold yourself together, he doesn’t comment.

You furrow your brows, clinging to the twinge of irritation at being ignored. Better that then– “What? It’s interesting there’s something more than just a screwed up boost?”

Steel finally looks back at you. His frown doesn’t let up. “There’s always something more to everything in this city. You know that. It’s just not smiled on to look into it.”

“You did anyway.”

“I needed answers.”

“You’ve always been nosey.”

“Your words, not mine.”

You take a breath. “Well? Did you find any?” It’s like peering over the edge of a window. Testing the air.

“I… I didn’t find you.” He glances away from your face, towards the break room door.

“So you found something then.”

“Bits… Pieces.” He admits and your heart freezes.

* * *

You wilt, look away. This isn’t the time. Sooner or later you’ll have to give up this delusion but you can’t bring yourself to jump just yet. Just… Just a little longer. One more day even. “I have my reasons. I’m sorry. I– I can’t talk about it.”

Ortega watches as your carefully balance yourself from one rock to the next, the wind blowing your shawl around your body in waves that mimic the sea. “Not ever?”

You wince. “N-n-not yet.”

“So… someday then?”

You grit your teeth, hop rocks, teeter for a second. “D-don’t push your luck, Ortega.”

She hops to a rock next to you, flashes you a smile. “And why not?”

“One day you’ll…” You pause to pull your shawl tighter against yourself. “You’ll get more than you can handle.”

* * *

“Who’s Chelsea?” Steel watches you, and you have to struggle to keep your face blank. Swallow down the burst of panic. The sudden urge to run, to jump.

“Nobody important,” you lie. Even as the words leave your mouth you can tell he doesn’t believe you. That he knows that you know he doesn’t believe you. You close your eyes. “Was that really it? The best you could do? Some old ghost?”

“There was more, a lot of dead ends.” Chen shakes his head. “Enough that I stopped looking.”

That gets you to look at him again and he won’t meet your eyes. “What? Why?” A bitter twinge in your stomach churns at your throat. “I thought you didn’t like mysteries?”

“I don’t. But… I needed to put the team first.”

You can feel the frustration bubbling again. The _team_ first. The _team_ you weren’t a part of because of a stupid piece of paper. The _team_ he just told you he wished you joined. “Fuck that noise.” You hiss. “What aren’t you saying?”

“Plenty.” Steel steps away from the table, back towards the door. “Maybe you should ask yourself why.”

“Asshole.”

“If you want to know so badly, Becker, just read it from my mind.” He only breaks eye contact with you to put his drink back in the fridge.

“I’ve told you it doesn’t work like that.”

“And I’ve told you, I don’t believe you.”

“Fuck you, Steel.” You pick up your mug again and take sip. Make a face and curse. It’s gone cold.

He gives you one last look back as he leaves the room. Chen’s face is a careful blank. “If I see Ortega I’ll be sure to tell her you’re here.”

* * *

“You’d have to start talking to me first.” Ortega sounds tired as she says it, and something in your heart or your gut or both twists at the tone of her voice.

“I’m– I’m talking.” You hold your shawl shut tight, wrapped around you.

She catches you eye, tries on a smile. “It’s a start.” She holds out a hand towards you. “Well. Since we’re talking, I suppose I should tell you…”

You look at her hand, then up at her face, the smug smile slowly starting to grow there. “What?”

“I’d really like to kiss you.”

You blink. “Oh.”

“What?” She raises an eyebrow. “Am I not sexy enough without 36 stitches and having lost a pint of blood first?”

You can feel the heat in your face. “Th–th–that’s not it! I mean…” A jumble of words get caught in your throat and for a moment you open your mouth and no sound comes out.

Ortega laughs, “You okay there Ari?”

You take a breath, glare at her. “Don’t make me push you.”

She puts a hand to her chest in mock shock. “_My Ari_?” –You heart skips a beat– “Never.” She offers her hand, shaking it. “Well?”

A dozen different alarm bells are screaming in your head in all the ways this is even worse an idea than last time. “F-f-f-fine.” You take her hand, letting your shawl flap loose in the breeze again. And you’ve jumped the ledge. “M-maybe I’d.. I’d like that.”

Ortega laughs, “Ariadne!” You could cry at the way she says your name if you weren’t already straining to hold yourself together. “I’m not going to shoot you.” She hops onto your rock.

“Just. Shut up.” You hiss, face burning. You grab her shoulders as she pushes against you. To steady her or yourself? Both? “If… If you drop me–”

She pulls you in. “I won’t. Never.”

It’s when she dips you low for the second kiss you remember you still haven’t figured out how to resolve the whole love triangle with Jane.


End file.
